Let me help you view this condition with new eyes and spark some reasons for hope.

Why you feel trapped…

When you made the decision to follow your partner or leave everything behind to rejoin him/her, you took a leap of faith.

You decided to jump.

Jump into a world that you wouldn’t control any more. At least for a while…

It’s a beautiful act in itself. It says so much about your level of trust, your love, your willingness to live boldly, your curiosity to explore, your vision of the bigger picture. The sense that for you as a couple, for your children and your family as a whole, it’s a fantastic opportunity for growth.

But there are unintended consequences.

In becoming a trailing spouse, you’ve become dependent on your partner for visa, money, health care, housing, car. You may have to rely on him/her for daily communication due to the language barrier. You may only get the chance to network though his/her relationships. Very often, this is the only person you’ve got at hand for emotional support. At least for a while…

This loss of control is very uncomfortable, especially in our Western culture: you ought to master your life, set your goals, achieve results. Otherwise, you’re considered as weak, lazy or incompetent.

This loss of control hurts.

It feels like such a big step backwards.

It feels like being a child again.

Desperate, you want to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

But how can you look for a job when you don’t speak the local language? In some countries, you’re not even allowed to work!

What’s the point in studying and getting a degree you won’t be able to use when moving again?

Should you find work, why investing yourself in a position you may have to quit in a year’s time?

You can’t decide what to do… because you’re paralyzed.

As one reader wrote to me:

“You feel like you’re in prison.”

This metaphor strongly resonated with me.

Prison….

What image does it trigger for you? What feelings does it bring up?

I see a dark place. Small cells. Dirty and overpopulated. You’re confined in a tiny spot. But in the middle of this collective promiscuity, you’re more lonely than ever.

Is that the only learning we can derive from the metaphor of the prison?

Let me offer you another interesting view.

A few km from where I live in Tasmania, there is an infamous penitentiary called Port Arthur. Beside the buildings hosting the convicts, a separate prison was erected. But not any kind of prison.

A silent prison.

Individual cell was the rule. Thick walls and doors were designed to grant complete silence and separation between the prisoners. Guards wore felt slippers so that you wouldn’t even hear their footsteps. They spoke to each other in sign language to not break the silence rule. Convicts were not allowed to see each other. They had to wear masks when brought together and they had complete interdiction to talk to one another. Even during the Chapel service, they were maintained in individual cubicles.

As mentioned in Port Arthur’s current documentation, “Solitary confinement was meant to replace physical punishment. In isolation from others, prisoners would be forced to look inwards and repent their crimes.”

Would you be surprised to hear that this regime was even harsher than physical mistreatment?

As time passed by, some staff members got worried by the unusually high number of prisoners becoming “mad”. The amount of such cases significantly outnumbered what could be observed in more classical carceral systems.

Isn’t it striking to see the huge psychological impact of isolation and control?

Interestingly, both are often experienced at various levels by the accompanying partner. In a new country, language barrier and lack of social connections concur to deep loneliness. Add to this the extreme difficulty to take control of your life as we previously talked about.

What can we learn from this?

Lesson #1

Isolation coupled with lack of control on one’s life are extremely painful.

Of course, this is not a one-size-fits-all statement. Not all accompanying partners would describe their experience as intensely. But those who do, are to be taken seriously. They need to have their feelings validated.

In his method of nonviolent action called Satyagraha, Gandhi’s purpose was “to practice civil disobedience that entailed breaking the law and courting arrest”, says Mark Shepard in his speech at the 1990 Annual Gandhi Lecture delivered at the University of Virginia.

“We tend to think breaking the law is the core of it. But to Gandhi, the core of it was going to prison. Breaking the law was mostly just a way to get there.”

In a book depicting his life, French philosopher Catherine Clement, student of Claude Levi-Strauss and passionate about India, mentions:

“Gandhi is never as happy as in prison. He’s resourcing himself and he’s full of ideas. Bars of confinement are not a barrier but an inner liberation and a source of energy.

Prison, a haven for reflecting on ourselves and on the world, is part of the pact Gandhi seals with his disciples.

Being Satyagrahi means that you not only know what prison is and that you’ve been there but that you love it.

After Gandhi’s death, the more faithful of his disciples were disappointed in the younger generation who was afraid of prison and who didn’t like it. They asserted: “with less than 10 years of prison, you’re not really Gandhi’s disciple.”

Lesson #2

Gandhi proved that prison is what we make of it.

Being afraid of prison means giving power to the tyrant – in the trailing spouse’s case, the tyrant being society, regulations of the hosting country or even your own partner! By loving being in prison, he showed us how to tame our fears so that this prison wouldn’t have any power on us any longer.

But don’t be mistaken. Gandhi never remained passive in jail.

He recommended “Don’t fortify the walls of your prison!”

There’s another man who experienced incarceration of his own choosing: Viktor Frankl.

This Austrian Jewish psychiatrist had the opportunity during WWII to flee to the US but decided to stay in Vienna.

Happened what was expected.

On September 1942, he got arrested and deported along with his wife and his elderly parents. They all died. He survived after spending 3 years in 4 different concentration camps.

In those terrible conditions, he touched the bottom of human nature. And what did he find?

One day, he was disgusted by the constant flow of trivial questions he kept asking himself.

Would he have enough to eat today? Should he keep his cigarette or trade it for a bowl of soup?

Would the capo be in a good mood? Would he find a wire for his shoe lace?

He forced himself to think about something else. Suddenly he pictured himself in a lecture room at university giving a talk about the psychology of concentration camps and felt immediately relieved.

Once again he proved what Nietzsche said “He who has a why to live can bear with almost any how”.

In the most terrible circumstances, when you can’t change a situation, you’re challenged to change yourself, concluded Frankl.

Lesson #3

Finding meaning is an incredible tool to bear the present situation.

Meaning can be found in activities, through art, nature, human relationships, even attitude.

So what are you meant to learn from your experience as an accompanying spouse?

Comments

Hi Anne,
Thanks for this invitation to “reframe” our situations in new ways. Another metaphor is to look at where we are through a new lens, or new eyes. Without denying the pain, but perhaps examining it as if from outside. So, what colour is it, what shape does it take? What animal does it mimic? Is loneliness our biggest problem (one solution is to join some kind of group, or start one, where we can meet people), or is it a loss of sense of self –I am only wife, mother, etc. but is there anybody there if I take off all my hats? then perhaps starting some kind of project, whether a creative one–like learning a new talent, art form, playing a new instrument. Or you might find meaning in a local service project, such as helping families, elderly people, or in joining an earthcare group. Many international projects need our help and might help us feel like individuals again. International organisations like Amnesty International, UNICEF, and other UN projects, the Red Cross and Red Crescent are everywhere in the world. Volunteering is also a wonderful way to connect with people. If locals don’t seem to need you, Anne has shown us a great direction by volunteering to help expats like herself who feel displaced. In many places there are refugees or migrant families who really need your help. Suddenly you may find you are not as badly off as you think, if you adopt another person or family! Thanks again, Anne, for showing us the many sides of our situations. Perhaps we imagine our cells as much smaller than they really are! Maybe we can even make the walls melt away!

Another nice piece of writing, Anne. I found your description of the prison at Port Arthur to be interesting, especially after having seen it last January. Also your comments about Gandhi and Frankl. Frankl: his ability to turn his mind around is amazing. People, including me, can be so imprisoned by our repetitious, limiting thoughts. The more we think them, the stronger the walls of our self-made prison become. This is true whether traveling or living in one’s native land.
Fortunately, I’ve never felt imprisoned while traveling. Generally, I travel alone and set my own itinerary, so that helps. But even on two occasions of being a trailing manfriend in Kolkata, India, I was very comfortable with the situation. Both times, my lady friend needed to return to the United States for emergency family reasons, and I remained behind for two months each time. Granted, I could have felt imprisoned. I could have thought, “I came here with her and now she’s leaving me behind.” I could have returned to the U.S. with her. But I neither thought those thoughts nor took that action.
I stayed and enjoyed the environment that was so novel and exciting and enriching. I helped my friend by taking care of business for her that she wasn’t able to take care of because of her departure. (She and her organization provide funding for the education of slum-dwelling children.) So I thought of myself as valuable and beneficial. And I know that she appreciated my efforts there, alone, without her. Without her in body, yes. But also with her in spirit. And within myself with satisfaction and accomplishment. In other words … free!
Thank you for the wisdom you are sharing with the world.
Your friend in the U.S. …
Robert M Weir
robertmweir.com

Dear Robert, I’m really grateful for your time and your willingness to share with us your experience. “Freedom is a state of mind” thought Gandhi and you demonstrated it beautifully to the service of others. What a joy! Thanks 🙂

Anne, Thank you for alerting me to this posting on FB. It is so thoughtful and very thought-provoking to me.
I certainly feel sympathetic for the very difficult position a trailing spouse finds themselves in–though I myself am not one. So much adaptation to be made! I certainly can see where one would feel imprisoned. The metaphor of the jail is a potent one, restricted as your life must be. But the metaphor that immediately fascinated me was the term “trailing spouse”. It’s the first time I’ve heard it, and given my Mapping Metaphor work I can’t help but explore the difficulties inherent in such a term.
To trail is to follow behind, to follow the path set by the spouse, and be dependent on the leader (spouse) to set direction. Naturally that forces taking a “step back”, even a few, in order to follow, which leads to feeling “left behind”. Frustrating indeed! It further means constantly playing “catch up”, and unable to see the way clear because the way forward is blocked. All of which certainly explains feeling like a child, as we all have to follow our parents when we are young, dependent on them for everything. Very difficult indeed! And there is another interesting reality about trailing another– they depend on you to “back them up”, to “have their backs”, to support them should they fall. The problem is–who has your back?
So from this metaphoric standpoint–it may be helpful to see who is left for you, or who could be right beside you that you may be unaware of, or is there perhaps a parallel path you could step sideways onto that would help you walk side by side? Just a few of the metaphoric possibilities….
Interestingly, I also have specific categories for groups of metaphors, and “Trailing Spouse” would be considered an Attachment Metaphor– and the solution tends to require growth, adaptation or breaking free. Well, breaking free: that explains the jail!

As you can tell, I have a passion for the potency of metaphoric language and the depth of what it can reveal.
I hope this offered at the least a different perspective, and was perhaps even a little useful!
Would love to continue the discussion!
Looking forward,
All the best,
Clara Soister (via Blooming FB Group)

Great article Anne – interesting points of view. I have had lots of experiences as a “trailing spouse” which led to my present career. There is never a loss without a gain. Rather than focusing on what is perceived as “lost” – focus on what is gained. What skills, transformations, exposure and expertise are gained? If we link to our highest “values” and priorities, and in all 7 areas of life – we will have a much more balanced perspective. Thanks again for sharing your article.

Thanks a lot Susan for making this point about gain and loss. I’ve read somewhere that we’re wired to focus more on loss than on gain. It seems that we’re generally more worried to lose 10 dollars than to win 100. This fear of losing may tie back to the “having” mode described by Erich Fromm where “we are what we have!”.

Anne, the mindset is everything in life. It makes all the difference. It can change your life in one second. You just need that click that suddenly makes you see your reality in a different way.
Nice article, so true!